


The Best Things in Life are Free

by midnightsnack



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Anal Sex, Attempted robbery, M/M, Rich!Gerard, Rimming, Sexual Content, homeless!frank
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-08
Updated: 2013-10-08
Packaged: 2017-12-28 19:38:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/995735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightsnack/pseuds/midnightsnack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank's a poor orphan with nowhere to go. Gerard is a rich millionaire with more than enough room in his bathtub for two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Things in Life are Free

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SeductiveToaste](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeductiveToaste/gifts).



People can get down on their luck, whether it be losing a bet and having to serve somebody or gambling and losing your house. There are different consequences for each loss, as well. And when people receive these consequences, they can go mad. They can get depressed, suicidal. 

 

Me, well, I lost love. No, I wasn’t a jerk to my girlfriend and got kicked out of the house (which is kind of ironic given my situation). 

 

I lost my parents. After coming out to them, my mother got emotional and ran out of the house. My dad took it a little better, and decided to stick at the house with me and wait up for my mother. 

 

She never came back. 

 

My dad, being an emotional wreck from the loss of his wife as a result of his gay son, made the (very stupid) decision to take his own life. 

 

Of course, I couldn’t pay the mortgage, and I didn’t want to go to a foster home, so I soon found myself homeless. After ditching school, I tried to find a job, but nobody (unsurprisingly) wanted to hire a dirty, smelly sixteen-year-old boy with no education. All I have are the clothes on my back and a self-made shack (and that’s being generous) down an old, abandoned alley. 

 

But tonight that’s all going to change.

 

Recently, during one of my strolls in one of the richer, older neighborhoods, I discovered a new house. It was built on top of a hill, towering over all the other houses. Great marble columns framed the house, with beautiful, intricate designs carved into them. It was a majestic white, and it reminded me of the White House by the architecture. There was no fence or protection on the outside of it, unlike the other houses. 

 

Perfect. 

 

I made my plans while looking over the house. There was a window not too high off the ground, which I could easily reach. Judging by the one car in the drive, not many people  live there. 

 

But there was one person: the beauty outside. 

 

A man, elegant and pale, stood outside the front door in nothing but a bathrobe. He was much younger than the other occupants of the area, maybe in his early twenties. The autumn wind blew his black hair around his face just so, making him look as if he were in a photo shoot. 

 

He spotted me standing on the side walk and yelled a cheerful, “Good morning!” 

 

I could only wave back, too awestruck by his beauty. A pang of guilt shot through my stomach, reminding me of the plans for tonight. I wouldn’t take much, just enough to pimp my cardboard shack with a blanket that doesn’t smell like wet dog; he wouldn’t miss much. 

 

I ducked my head down and continued my walk, smiling slightly to myself. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~

 

I unfortunately couldn’t go back and carry out my plan for a while, for when I went back to the house later that night there were three extra cars parked in the driveway. Not wanting to risk getting caught, I retreated back to my “home”. The next time I tried was two days after that, but the man spotted me walking on the sidewalk and called out a greeting again, cheerful much like that last time. I didn’t have the audacity to rob the house after that. 

 

Finally, after a week of waiting and dreaming of the food and clothes I’d be able to buy, I go back to the house to find no cars whatsoever in the drive. 

 

A grin spreads across my face. “Perfect,” I mumble to myself, crouching low to the ground and running as fast as I could towards the window. A few lights in the house are on, but I don't think much of it - he must’ve just left a few lights on. 

 

I look up at the window, clutching the black bag I had in my hand. It's a little ways off the ground but not too far to climb. As I grasp for purchase on the wall, I consider myself lucky that there are indents, making it easy for me to pull myself up. 

 

I feel somewhat like the Grinch, scaling the wall up to the window, where I would steal various items in order to make myself better off. The aforementioned character’s grin appears on my face as I think of all the things I could buy. Fresh, hot food, clean clothes, bottled water, even a blanket!

 

My grin only gets bigger as I feel my fingers graze the windowsill. As I pull myself up, for one stupid, brief moment, I close my eyes, almost feeling the warmth of a blanket and food settling in my full stomach. 

 

I soon find myself falling face-first into a tub of water. 

 

I flail around like a cat for a moment before emerging, gasping down air and hanging over the side of said tub. I’m just starting to ponder why there is a tub full of water here when no one’s home when I hear a cough from beside me. 

 

I whip around and am struck with the sight of the raven-haired owner of the house. 

 

Naked. In a bathtub. With bubbles. 

 

Did I mention he was naked?

 

“Um... Can I help you?” He asks, giving me a strange look. 

 

Not that I expected him to be all sunshines and rainbows about me suddenly appearing in his bath, but I didn’t think I would live this long. Actually, I thought he would’ve been flipping his shit by now.

 

“...No?” I respond, my eyes having a mind of their own and looking over his naked body. His chest is milky pale and hairless, looking smooth to the touch. The midnight-black hair atop his head is slightly damp, some strands hanging in his eyes a bit.

 

 I’m a little disappointed that the bubbles are covering the area I would like to see most. 

 

He gives an awkward cough, red blooming in his cheeks. “Well, uh, why are you in my bathtub?” 

 

I feel completely and utterly and embarrassed about this fact, but also a little panicked. I couldn’t go to jail- I wouldn’t. 

 

“Well, you see, about that...” I trail off, choosing that moment to strike. 

 

Splashing some water into the man’s face, I make my way out of the warm tub and out of the room, running down the pristine and rather large hallway. I can hear him yelling at me from the bathroom, telling me to “get back here!” and to “stop running”. 

 

Like I would really go back there. No matter how much I wanted to see his naked body again, I couldn’t let him get me. I couldn’t go to jail. 

 

It soon occurs to me that I don’t know where I’m going, because I soon come to a dead-end. There are doors on either side of me, however, so I quickly try to get into one. Locked. I try the other ones. Locked. Locked. Locked. 

 

“Now you have to stop running,” a voice says from behind me. It’s the man, clad only in a towel, holding my black bag - the very bag I planned on using to smuggle items out of his house. 

 

“L-Look, I’m sorry I-I tired to st-teal from you,” I stutter out, backing up against the wall while looking for another way out. “B-But p-please don’t call the c-c-cops. I’ll do w-whatever you want,” I bargain. 

 

I see the side of his lip twitch upwards. “Whatever I want?” 

 

I nod, but I can’t help the shiver that goes through me at his tone of voice, almost seductive. 

 

His eyebrows furrow. “Why did you try and steal from me?” 

 

That wasn’t what I was expecting to hear at all, but if it lets me out of here a free man... ”I needed the money,” I murmur, ashamed. 

 

Scoffing, he replies: “Why would you need the money? There a new video game out? Parents not want to give you your allowance?” 

 

I squeeze my eyes shut. I don’t want the tears to show. “No, I needed the money for food and clothes.” 

 

That stops his attitude right away. “Why do you need the money for food? Don’t your parents provide that?” He questions in a whisper, walking a bit closer to me.

 

I gulp and try to force back the tears. “Not anymore.” 

 

“Are you... abused?” Another step towards me. 

 

My eyes flash open, anger finding it’s way into me. “How dare you! My parents never abused me! They were kind and caring and the best parents in the world!” 

 

All is silent for a moment, before I hear yet another question leave his lips. “Were?” 

 

“Were,” I repeat. 

 

“Oh.”

 

Out of nowhere, he advances on me, sandwiching me between the wall and himself. His mouth is set in a thin line, almost angry-looking, but his hazel eyes are kind and concerned.  He’s so close now that I can see green flecks near his pupil, making his eyes stand out a little more. 

 

I can feel his minty breath hit my face when he says, “I’m sorry for this,” and then all I can feel is his mouth. 

 

 At first I’m a little shocked that he would kiss an absolute stranger - not to mention that said stranger tried to rob them - but I soon close my eyes and enjoy the kiss. He tastes of coffee and mint, a strange combination but lovely all the same.

 

He pulls back after a while. “I’m sorry.” 

 

“No, no, no, it’s fine,” I respond quickly and breathlessly. “I should be the one apologizing.

 

His lip gives a small twitch upward. “Its fine, believe me.” 

 

We just breathe deeply for a second, looking in to each other's eyes like long lost lovers. Before I know it, his mouth is on mine again, kissing me like it’s his life source. I kiss back just as eagerly, my hands reaching up to grab his hair.  I soon feel hands on the bottom of my hoodie, tugging on it and eventually pulling it over my head.

 

“Oh,” he whispers when he sees my naked, bruised chest through my thin white shirt. 

 

“Yeah,” I murmur back, going for his lips again. He moves his head away, though, and I’m starting to think this whole thing was just a distraction and the police are finally here when he grabs my hand and pulls me down the hallway. Opening one of the many doors, he pulls me inside and backs me up towards the bed, laying me down on it once we reach it. Well, this is an unexpected turn of events, I think.

 

He goes down to suck at my neck. “I’ve been watching you for a while, every time you would walk down the street.” 

 

I moan when he finds one of my pleasure spots, trying to shimmy out of my pants, eventually succeeding. I take notice that the towel is laying on the ground a few feet from the bed. I blush slightly as I feel the man smile against my neck.

 

That's when it hits me. “What’s your name?” 

 

“Gerard,” he answers, slowly moving down my body. 

 

“Gerard,” I repeat, trying the name out on my tongue. “Frank.” 

 

“What?” He looks up at me with question in his eyes.

 

“My name; it’s Frank,” I clarify. Giving a small nod, he continues down the path to my hard dick. 

 

When he engulfs my cock into this warm mouth, I almost cum right then and there. It’s been so long since someone has touched me, and even since I touched myself. And he’s so good at it, wrapping his hand around the part he can’t reach and sucking tightly on the tip. Fingers, long and pale, tap my lips, begging for entry. I grant it, of course, sucking on said fingers like Gerard is sucking on my dick. 

 

“Oh god,” I moan when his fingers leave my mouth to push at my hole. One finger slowly enters me, the intrusion making me wince. It makes my rim burn, but it’s nothing compared to when he enters yet another finger. “Fuck, it hurts. I can’t-”

 

“Shshsh,” he says, stroking my thigh soothingly. “You owe me, remember? If you comply, I won’t have to call the cops.” 

 

I close my eyes as he enters a third finger, biting my lip and swallowing my screams of pain. This couldn’t exactly be classified as rape, seeing as though you can’t really rape the willing, but it hurts so much that salty tears are flowing out of my eyes. 

 

Just as I’m getting used to the pain, he slips the fingers out of me, causing a low grunt to escape my lips. I’m expecting his dick now, but when I feel nothing else other than the hand sensually stroking my thigh, I open my eyes. 

 

Gerard is staring down at me, analyzing me carefully. His eyes grow a little wider when he sees the tears. “Did it hurt that bad?” He questions. 

 

I lick my lips. “Yeah, but m’fine,” my tone darkens a bit, “I owe you, remember?” 

 

He seems a little stunned by my tone, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Do you not want this?” 

 

I choose my words carefully. “It hurt a lot,” is all I reply. He nods and his gaze moves lower down my body to my now soft dick. 

 

“Oh... You, uh, didn’t get any pleasure out of it then?” 

 

“Can’t say I did.” 

 

“But if it was more pleasurable, would you want this?” 

 

Gerard is just full of surprises, isn’t he? I would’ve thought his dick would be in my ass by now, given his “you owe me” statement before - which I did. I would do anything not to go to jail (and the fact that Gerard isn’t exactly bad looking helps, too). 

 

But now this question. Does he actually want me to be an equal in this? Isn’t he just looking for something to fuck, and that something just happened to fall in his bathtub? Although, he did state earlier that he had been watching me for some time. 

 

“Yes,” I finally answer, and it seems to perk him up a bit. 

 

“Excellent.” 

 

With that, he flips me over onto my stomach. I’m a little shocked - though I shouldn’t be - that he’s entering me so quickly, but then I feel something else prodding at my hole. Something wet, something unlike a dick. 

 

A tongue. 

 

It feels much better than the fingers when it enters me, making me let out a loud moan of enjoyment. Gerard’s hands are on my ass, kneading and massaging it. One hand slips away, and I feel fingers prodding at my hole again. When one of said fingers hits my prostate, I almost black out from the pleasure.

 

“Fuck, Gee, fucking fuck me, motherfucker.” 

 

“Such a way with words, Frankie.” I smile at the nickname, and a quick look over my shoulder confirms that he is smiling, too. 

 

He reaches over to the nightstand and pulls out a thin tube of lube, squirting some into his hands and lubing up his hard erection. It turned me on so much to see him pump himself, even if it was only for a few moments.

 

He grabbed my hips, aligning himself with my entrance. “Ready?” 

 

I nodded, biting my lip harshly from the burn; but it was a good burn, a pleasurable burn. Despite this, though, I was thankful that he decided to go slow. Gerard was big, and I knew it would’ve hurt much more if he hadn’t have prepped or rimmed me. 

 

“Oh, god, Frankie, so tight. So good,” Gerard complements, his voice strained. The grip he has on my hips is harsh, and I’ll probably have half-moon shapes carved into my skin after this. 

 

He waits a few moments for my okay, and when it comes he pulls out almost all the way and rams back into me. I arch my back and moan like a porn star, knowing he hit my prostate. 

 

“Wow, hit it on the first try.” I hear him mumble. 

 

“God, move!” I order, pushing back against him. 

 

I can almost see the smirk on his face as he thrusts into me again, both of us moaning in tandem. As time goes by he picks up speed, slamming into me over and over again. I’ve never felt this amount of pleasure before, this good burn of heat in my gut that’s begging Gerard to go faster, harder - almost like a cat in heat. The pleasure soon becomes too great and I drop down, my face rubbing against the pillows. 

 

Gerard’s arm sneaks around my body, reaching over to grab my leaking cock and pump it in time with his thrusts. 

 

“Ah! Close, close, close,” I repeat, alerting him to my impending release. 

 

“Me, too, baby.” I don’t pay much attention to the pet name, for I’m coming all over the bed. 

 

“Oh god, Gerard!” 

 

“Oh fuck, Frankie!”

 

We release at the same time, soon collapsing from complete and utter exhaustion. The only sounds that could be heard in the room are our heavy breaths and the shifting of the blankets that Gerard is now putting over us. This confuses me a little. Wouldn’t he want me to go now? He wouldn’t actually call the cops after he said he wouldn’t, right? 

 

If push comes to shove, I’ll tell the cops he raped me - only if I have to though. I really enjoyed the act we just preformed, and I don’t want to see the man I love get taken away.

 

Wait, love? 

 

“I hope you aren’t planning on leaving.” Gerard whispers in my ear, wrapping a sweaty and warm arm around my waist. 

 

“Don’t you want me to go?” I ask before I can stop myself. 

 

He gives a breathy chuckle. “Why would you think that, Frankie?” 

 

“Because I just tried to rob you!” I exclaim, jumping up from the bed. 

 

Another chuckle. “Frankie, Frankie, Frankie, you think I would just leave my window open?” He shakes his head fondly. “No, no, no, my dearest Frankie, I knew you were coming the whole time.” 

 


End file.
